Vijaya Sundaram

Poet, Musician, Teacher, and Amateur Visual Artist

Queen Pleasure On a Hot Day

Queen Pleasure On A Hot Day
©July 1st, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram

Here are some round, bright grapes
And a soft, cushiony couch,
And an Ottoman for aching legs.
Break off a few grapes, go on,
Have them, and pass me the plate.

Oh, and a glass of ginger lemonade
With cubes of ice tinkling enticingly
Melting rapidly on a hot day
To moisten our throats and
Untangle our tongues.

Get me some slices of spicy
Olive bread (the best kind)
And olive oil and gently spiced zatar,
To dip chunks of bread into.
Oh, and a chunk of spicy Pepper Jack cheese,
And thinly sliced Granny Smith apples.
Yes, and a slice of chocolate ganache cake
Just a thin one will do.

Now, play me some Ellington, or
Coltrane and Hartman, or Billie
With lighter-than-air Lester.
Let’s play some Jelly Roll Morton
Or Bach chorales on our guitars,
While we stumble and grumble
Over the same mistakes we make,
Or giggle over new, interesting ones.
Play me some Mansur and Gajanandrao Joshi,
Or some Amir Khan or Kesarbai or Mogubai,
Play me some Lata or M.S., and let me
Leap into song like a happy porpoise.

Come, sit by my side,
And talk to me about songs
And books, of childhood and child,
And politics, and the weather,
And Climate Change, and science,
And animals and movies.

Later, we shall walk hand in hand
Along the margins of the gleaming
Blue-green Reservoir with her yellow lilies
And leaping fish, and the occasional frog.
The tall trees will bend over us
Like a benediction, and calm
Will descend like a silk scarf
Around our necks.

Walk by my side in silence
And breathe in and out, with
The good trees watching us,
I shall welcome that, too.

This is pleasure, all of it.

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Pleasure

Di-verse

In response to The Daily Post’s Daily Prompt:  Diverse

Di-verse
©May 10th, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram

The deadly spectre of duality
Has quite overtaken my halting verse –

‘Twould be far better if plurality
Were awakened to stop it from being terse.

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Giggle

In response to The Daily Post’s Daily Prompt: Giggle

Giggle
©April 13th, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram

I do not giggle any more.
It causes me some pain
For I have graduated from
Teenagerhood to Brain.

To keep a brain, we all agree
We cannot laugh and titter
We have to hold our breath and moan
In sotto voces bitter.

Giggling’s for the younger set
For those who live their lives
Without a hint of future stress
Without a hint of strife.

But when my back is turned, I find
I snicker and I sneeze,
And then, to my amazement
I giggle, if you please!

I catch myself, and look askance
At giggles which escape
And scold them as they leave my throat
And then, I stand and gape.

Before me stands a jester pied
All dressed in motley clothes
And solemnly he bows to me
And then, around me, flows

He flows like water, and like wind
He smiles and takes my hand,
And dances with me laughingly,
And then, I understand.

We laugh aloud in midnight mirth
We chuckle all night long,
And soon, before the break of day
My giggles become songs.

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Bedtime (a silly poem)

In response to The Daily Post’s Daily Prompt:  Bedtime

Bedtime (a silly poem)
©April 13 (really, the night of the 12th, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram

If only I had one!
When all is said and done,
It’s in the land of sleep
We plunge in waters deep.
I find the night a lure –
For this there is no cure.
I like to count the hours
In poems or in stars.
I drink some tea and stare
At nothing, everywhere.
I’ve only gotten worse.
What, bedtime?  It’s a curse!

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Deeper than Silence

Deeper than Silence

©June 15th, 2015

Vijaya Sundaram

gentle twang of strings

thrilling to ten-year old

tender fingers in golden

room filled with sweet childhood.

clicking of keys on computer

here in room awash in

sweeps of scarves and sheets.

whoosh of cars outside

dividing rain-washed streets

flinging aside water

cutting through space

hiss of electricity

the steady hum of it

permeating the air

outside my ears makes me

still, stiller than still

retreating to a place

deeper than silence.

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